Chuck Vs The World
by KarbinCry
Summary: Chuck rewrite with more cohesive plot, more complex "villains" and more consistency. The beginning of the story is the same as the show, but gradually the little (and big) changes add up to a much different and darker plot.
1. Beginning 1 - Hangover (Chuck)

**A rather lengthy author's note:**

This is the first time I'm writing a fan-fiction. But that is the least of my problems, considering English is not my native language and the US keyboard I'm writing on right now is really quite different from the one I have used my entire life (just this one bit took me about 15 minutes, so... yeah).

I think I am a decent writer, but fan-fiction is very hard. You have to stay true – to some point – to your source material, you have to work with characters created by other people, characters you, the readers, know and have preexisting impressions of. Coupled with the fact I will make a lot of grammatical errors etc., I'm really scared of doing this.

So why the hell am I writing, when I know it will probably end badly?

Well, it all started about a week ago, when I decided to re-watch the entire series. I noticed a lot of weak spots in the story lines, and I wanted to quit more than once, but there was so much stuff that was so good I couldn't do that. That is until the final episodes of season 4. While I actually saw seasons 1 through 4 twice in this one week, I couldn't bring myself to watch season 5. Not just because the main storyline was bad and the ending was so... depressing, but because the magic of Chuck, those brilliant moments and those supplementary story arcs that were so much better than "we must take Fulcrum/Ring/Volkoff down", were too few and far between (god, I hope I'm using that right :)).

So, I did what anyone who spent so long watching one show would do. I turned to fan-fiction.

And I was... seriously underwhelmed.

Most of the longer stories did not satisfy me at all. Granted, I only read first few chapters of only about 5 of those, but still.

What did they do wrong? Why did none of the stories I read so far – with the exception of "Chuck vs The Lost Memories" by CF Vici – satisfy me?

Most of them have different ratio of three things: they usually rushed Charah, they tried to make Chuck more "cool" and they tried to compress most of the cool elements of the show in first few chapters.

So now I decided to write my own fan-fiction, with zero experience in the genre (for example – I didn't have a clue what "angst" means until a few hours ago), and without extensive knowledge of the language I'm writing in (I think I'm not that bad, but I'm still a non-native speaker).

I welcome any and all reviews, even "bad" ones. I would like you to notify me if I wrote something which doesn't make much sense (my native language has a very different sentence structure).

I think it would be ideal if I had a co-writer, so if you'd like to help me out n this way, it would be much appreciated.

With that in mind, enjoy the first chapter of Chuck Vs. The World.

P.S.: I really don't have a good memory for quotes, but I spent last few days watching Chuck, so some of them might seep through unintentionally.

P.P.S.: Most chapters will be longer. This is more like a test, so I could see how I'm doing. Which is why I would really like your opinions on this one.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1 – Hangover (Chuck)<strong>

This is not good.

"Chuck? Buddy? Can you hear me?"

The world was flying all around me. Through haze of weird pictures I've never seen before, a face appeared. A bearded face.

"Morgan? What time is it?" were the only words coming out of my mouth. My incredibly dry, dry mouth.

Wow. Did I really had so much to drink last night? I don't think I had such a hangover since Stanford. Which was five years ago. Maybe t is just a natural part of aging – I mean, I only remember a few beers... and then that email from Bryce.

World cleared up. No more strange images, if you're not counting Morgans face, which was uncomfortably close to mine. So I guess I didn't really say anything.

"Water..."

"Yeah, sure buddy, coming right up!" with those words, Morgan went to the kitchen.

That must be it. Bryce sent me an email, I got upset and drank to oblivion. Well, mission accomplished.

What was in that email anyway? Bryce hadn't talked to me, emailed me or even texted me for five years, so what was so important he just had to contact me? It certainly wasn't my birthday. Maybe an invitation to his wedding? That would make sense. It was just a mass email to all his university buddies.

So who could he be marrying? Well, considering it was Bryce, it was probably tall, long-legged and smoking hot blonde.

It doesn't matter. Bryce has been dead for five years, as far as I'm concerned.

"Here you go," Morgan returned with a glass of water. Time to stand up.

After drinking the entire glass in one go, I could finally talk. And the decision to stand up was also a good one – now I saw it's 7 AM, sun is shining, my PC is dead, which was strange, because I don't remember shutting it down and I doubt I could do that with the amount of alcohol I must have consumed, judging by the terrible headache.

So it's shower or breakfast. No time for both. Probably shower. Definitely shower.

"Wild night, huh?" asked Morgan.

"You have no idea. Not that I would have any for that matter. Look, I'm gonna take a quick shower, so just meet me out in ten, OK?"

"Yeah, sure Chuck," answered Morgan and disappeared through the window (or the Morgan door).

* * *

><p>Cold shower was great. Well, not great, not really. But refreshing. And with Demova virus out there, it's going to be quite a day.<p>

Suddenly, my head was filled with more images. Biscuits, police car, satellite images, LAPD tactical guidelines, flowers, all flashing at once.

And as suddenly as they appeared, they were gone.

Maybe I'm still a little bit drunk. Not that it would be a problem in Buy More. I could show up on verge of alcohol poisoning and I would still be more sober than Jeff.

* * *

><p>"You know, why don't you drive? I'm still a little... you know," I threw the car keys to Morgan.<p>

"For real? You're letting me drive?"

"Morgan, it's a company car. It's not a big deal. And please stay off the 5, because... cops are in... phased deployment," I answered with no idea what I was saying. What the hell is a "phased deployment"? And how do I know cops are in "phased deployment" on 5?

Clearly confused Morgan answered: "Um... Okay."

* * *

><p>Day in the Buy More started as usual. First a meeting with strange Nerd Herd gang, then a ton of Demova-related off-sites. A normal day in electronics paradiseasylum.

Another phone call. This time a guy with British accent and strong distaste for everything computer-related. Something about a museum. It's really hard to focus, especially when those image "flashes" kept on repeating. Always different, yet always the same. And I always knew something which I couldn't have possibly known, like the fact that that NATO general arrived yesterday, not today as the major media outlets would have you believe.

So I just kinda drifted off, when I heard something form Morgan, who was just next to me.

"Stop the presses... Who is **that**! Vicky Vale..."

"Vicky Vale, Vicky Vicky Vicky Vale, Vickity Vick Vicky Vale..." I started saying with my eyes burried in some files. That is until I actually looked at this "Vicky Vale" person, which was followed by me dropping the phone.

Right before me, in a Buy More, was a breathtakingly beautiful woman. It's funny, but this is exactly how I imagined Bryce's bride.


	2. Beginning 2 - Mission (Sarah)

**Author's note:**

Now I would like to show you what "my take on Chuck" actually means.

First of all, I believe every story must have a strong backbone. This backbone is the setting, which was underdeveloped in the show. Fulcrum, Ring, Volkoff, or even the CIA were more like headless chicken rather than large, complex organizations with their own agendas.

That is the most prominent change. I even made a crazy conspiracy-style table, so I know how these organizations operate, how does their structure look like, who does what. And all of them have their own goals and agendas. That is the origin of the title "Chuck Vs. The World" – they all want something, and that usually involves the "Intersect".

Which brings me to the second major change. The Intersect. I always felt like there is strong discontinuity where Intersect is concerned. So I made a table for Intersect as well. It isn't one single thing, more like a name for number of projects with one origin, but many uses.

As a result, it will probably be a bit darker. There will never be just one "big bad" and often it will be very difficult to know who is friend and who is foe (especially considering that Fulcrum and Ring have already infiltrated the CIA and NSA). Everything I write for this story will have some connection to the plots of "powers that be". I might do some one-shots from the same universe, but they will probably be "stand-alone".

So it would be better if you just forget all about Ring, Fulcrum, Intersect etc. I know I'm just retelling the pilot now, but every story must have a beginning. After that, the story will be very, very different.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 – Mission (Sarah)<strong>

I don't know what is worse. Bryce being a double agent (how long exactly was he rogue?) or him being dead.

Fortunately, there was a mission. Find Bryce's contact. Find Intersect data.

Is it strange that finding out who was Bryce working for isn't a part of the mission? After all, he couldn't pull something that big without some support. And this "Charles Bartowski" must have been a part of this team – why else would Bryce send the data to him?

If that was true, and the intel on Bartowski was right, it started in Stanford. Either someone recruited them or they created their own, independent cell.

It would mean Bartowski is a true master spy. He had perfect cover – working in some "Nerd Herd" at Buy More, but how could anyone suffer through five years of such work just for a computer database?

Granted, it wasn't just a computer database. But from what Graham told me, it used some next-gen image encryption, and from what I know about digital encryption, decrypting computer would have to be more powerful. Considering the Intersect was supposed to be the ultimate computer, how could they mine the data effectively anyway?

One thing is funny, though. It suddenly almost feels like a normal day, while a minute ago it was far from it.

* * *

><p>Time for contact.<p>

He is very good, so I should be very careful. Sadly, because of his cover, he will probably be immediately suspicious of me. Well, hopefully he isn't that good.

Last check on the phone – still broken – and it's time to meet Bryce's real partner.

* * *

><p>"Stop the presses... Who is <strong>that<strong>! Vicky Vale..." the bearded midget started blabbering. Normal reaction.

But then Bartowski started too: "Vicky Vale, Vicky Vicky Vicky Vale, Vickity Vick Vicky Vale..." until he actually laid his eyes on me.

He is very, very good.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Oh, no, um, not at all... um, it's from Batman, you know..." blabbered surprised Bartowski.

"Cause that makes it better." very good. I can't be nerd chic. That would be too obvious. And I lack the expertise anyway.

That resulted in awkward laughter from Bartowski, until the midget stepped in: "Hi, I'm Morgan, and this is Chuck."

"Oh, I didn't realize people still named their children Chuck, or Morgan for that matter." maybe I am pushing it too much. Well, better to stay the course, right?

"Yeah, well, my parents were sadists and carnival freaks found him in a dumpster."

"They raised me as one of their own... one of their own." added Morgan.

It was probably a joke, right? Bartowski was practically an orphan and this Morgan would probably be in a circus if his story was actually true.

"So, how can I help you..." Bartowski changed the subject.

"Sarah. I'm here about this." I gave him the broken phone.

"Oh, yeah, the Intellicell. This model has a screw, right here in the back, that pops lose. It takes only a few turns... and it's good as new." it didn't take him more than a minute.

"Wow, you geeks **are** good." a compliment to show interest.

Then both of them started blabbering about how they are actually nerds. It was truly impressive. If Bartowski was a spy, he was one of the best.

Before I could continue, a concerned father rushed to the Nerd Herd desk with a video camera and his daughter. I should probably stay for this. Maybe I've been made. Then his behavior with a normal customer should be different.

It was strange to see someone doing their job (or cover job) with such dedication (and niceness). He probably has no idea I'm not a normal customer.

Which is good.

Now is a good time for an exit. I'll just leave a card here and off to do some heavy lifting.

* * *

><p>The computer was quite heavy. Heavier then expected. How am I supposed to know haw much does a normal PC weight, when I usually work with notebooks?<p>

Well, no matter how heavy it is, there might be data from the Intersect on the hard disk. So I have to take it. Will it even fit into the car? It better fit. Anyway, this is family neighborhood. There will surely be a car with more luggage space.

Was that the sound of the doors opening?

Of course it was. Bartowski. And Morgan. If Bartowski is an agent, Morgan probably is one too. If they are both agents in Bryce's organization, they will probably fight.

"No, not the computer!" shouted Chuck.

Morgan started throwing stuff at me. Not effective. He isn't a spy, that's for sure. Now onto Bartowski, who started to approach me after being hit in the head by Morgan (which was quite funny).

Disposing of him was not a problem, once I had the computer off of my hands. Soon, Morgan was also lying on the floor, when a shelf on which I put the PC broke down.

The computer is toast. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Well, at least now I know Bartowski is not a spy. Which means Bryce didn't have much of a plan, which means he might haven't been rogue a long time.

Let's get out of here. Bartowski will call me anyways, it's not like this is an end of the mission.


	3. Beginning 3 - Surprise (Chuck)

**Author's note:**

So, I made a synopsis now! So far, I have 73 chapters planed (they should be about 1000 words each), divided into 14 larger parts. It might seem like too much, but a 1000 words isn't that much, which gives me great flexibility, since I can write such chapter in few hours. Thanks to that, you can expect new chapters at least twice a week or every day during holidays.

Also, I was able to determine where exactly I want the story to go. Those 73 chapters are nowhere the end, but the last 4 parts are something like a breaking point for the fan-fiction.

I am really looking forward to those future chapters, because those first ones must be somehow similar to the pilot. Actually, the first 6 parts will have similar, albeit not so strong, connection to the episodes from the show. After that, I finally venture into the story I want to tell, into a story, where I can do anything.

Also, big thanks to **all **readers and reviewers. What is the point of writing if it isn't read afterward, right? :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 – Surprise (Chuck)<strong>

Maybe I was still sleeping.

Sometimes I have the most vivid of dreams. Especially if I'm sleeping on my floor, passed out from Morgan's punch.

That must be it. First a gorgeous woman comes to me to save her phone and actually speaks with me, then this crazy ninja attack. Not to mention those flashes and memories that quite don't fit in with the others.

This is a dream. Well no. Part dream (especially the part with Sarah), part nightmare (the part when a ninja kicked my ass and destroyed my PC).

* * *

><p>I woke up. On my bed. Which kind of invalidated the dream theory.<p>

I checked my pockets. And there it was. A business card with a phone number and a name – Sarah Walker.

Maybe I should have called. But then again, does she even remember me? Would she? Am I somehow different from thousands of schmucks every one of us comes to contact every day?

Do I remember anyone who works in a grocery store? No. They are all interchangeable.

We are all interchangeable.

But Sarah Walker wasn't. She was from the same crop like Bryce or Devon. People you remember, because they are somehow so full of energy and confidence.

It's better not to call. After all, I've seen Morgan go that road before.

So, hooray to work, schmuck!

* * *

><p>Unfortunately the computer was toast. Strangely, though, the hard disk seemed much worse then it should be. It wasn't damaged just mechanically, it was literally melted. That doesn't happen.<p>

Bryce. Of course. He must have send me a virus in the e-mail. After all, we both went to Stanford, it's not like we wouldn't be capable of creating something that could melt normal, mid-end HDD. The only question is, why would he do that. He might have been a bastard, but he wasn't petty.

"What if you were an unwitting target of a ninja vendetta and he returns tonight to strangle you with his nun-jacks." said Jeffrey in his creepy, completely monotonous voice.

"Thanks Jeff. Great to see you thinking outside the box on that one. Here I thought I couldn't get any more freaked out." I responded, to which Jeff started blinking. Twice with one eye. Jeff-style. I think it's time to escape.

"I'm gonna buy some new locks over at Large Mart."

* * *

><p>Large Mart was hell.<p>

I can't picture any place more desolate than this huge, industrial hall with robotically precise, long aisles of merchandise, populated by few shoppers and one or two shop attendants, that were always too far away. And the music! Oh, the music...

This place is the modern day equivalent to haunted houses. The atmosphere here is just so... weird. It feels like a piece of world after zombie apocalypse, or something.

Right, locks. I need locks. The bigger the better. So where might those be...

Finally another human being! Probably not a member of Large Mart staff, judging by the leather jacket, but still, he might have seen locks here somewhere.

"Thank God. Excuse me, sir, but don't you..." I started, when I felt something just as he turned his head to me.

No, no, no, no... not again!

Pie. Face. Photo of this guy. Explosives. Croatian passport. Explosion. Big house, exploding. A different big house. Some military officer, no, the general from yesterday.

So, this is a serbian explosives expert connected to terrorists trying to kill some general.

Should I run? Probably not. Don't run. That will just tell him you know about him. Why am I running? Why the hell am I running? Yes, another person. "There... there is a guy. He wants to do... something. You have to – you have to call the police," I frantically tried to explain the situation.

"Can you tell me how he looks like?"

"Um, blonde hair, black leather jacket, strong terminator vibes..." what? Strong terminator vibes?

"You mean that guy?" she answered, pointing at a counter behind me, with a Serbian terrorist talking to a sales clerk, and not doing... whatever Serbian terrorist do.

* * *

><p>I'm losing my mind.<p>

Did I just say that out loud? Probably yes.

I'm losing my mind. I'm losing my mind.

Ding.

That wasn't me.

"Not now, Morgan..." I responded, reaching for his hand on the bell.

Except it wasn't his hand. It was a woman's hand. Probably. So, it has to be a customer. With a wonderful hands. Time to see her.

And... it's Sarah. From yesterday.

"Hi! Hi! Uh, phone trouble, again?" I took out my screwdriver.

"Ah, yes, I I'm not sure if I'm able to receive calls, because I never got one from you." well, that is a surprise. Of course, when Morgan heard that, he started laughing behind me.

"I'm sorry I left so quickly yesterday, I had an appointment with a realtor – I just moved here," added Sarah after I shut Morgan up with a mean look.

"Welcome!" was the only word I was able to say. It was probably the first time in my life that a woman was upset that I didn't call her. Well, it was definitely a first time a woman like Sarah did so.

"Thanks. And I don't really know anyone here, so I was wondering if you would show me around," did she just ask me out? Maybe she is a professional and this is Morgan's birthday present, but where would he get enough money? "That is, if you're free."

Common. Say something. Am I really speechless? I think I'm speechless.

"Oh, he's free. He, he has got nothing but time on his hands. He is **very** available. You guys are gonna have a **great **time," answered Morgan for me. After I shut him up with another mean look, I could finally answer for myself: "Apparently, my schedule is wide open."

"Great," she smiled.

* * *

><p>What a day. Started badly, with a broken PC and the Large Mart incident, but that was nothing in comparison to what, or who, came afterward.<p>

"Hey Chuck," said my sister.

"Ellie, Captain, don't freak out, remain calm, I have some news."

"Chuck's got a date!" shouted Morgan while jumping on me.


	4. Beginning 4 - Twist (Sarah)

**Author's note:**

So, I'm finally a bit more adventurous and go a bit "off-canon". Next chapter will be the end of the beginning, and even though the next couple chapters will still be based on first episodes of the show, it should quickly develop into a story of its own.

I would also like to say that there will be more POV's than just Chuck and Sarah (so far I have Casey's and Morgan's POV planned with occasional 3rd person chapters), it's just that it depends on how it works for the story.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 – Twist (Sarah)<strong>

Preparation was always about anticipation and prevention. It was fun to think about all possible scenarios, all the ways the mission could go wrong. Only the mission itself could rival that sense of immediate danger and excitement.

But somehow it wasn't quite the same without a partner. Without Bryce. But then, preparation wasn't just about preparation itself, was it?

Never mind. Bryce is gone, dead. It's not like he was my first partner and he won't be the last. It's just the way how it all happened – so quickly, without any foreshadowing. It was sudden surprise, and I don't like surprises. When something happens like that, it's beyond my control, beyond my ability to change it, and this forced passivity doesn't suit me.

It is, however, useless to dwell on such moments, when I've got plenty to do right now.

Like call Graham. Even if he can't officially be part of this, he should be kept in the loop.

"Agent Walker?"

"He's picking me up for a date."

"You're on your own, Sarah. I can't help you if something goes wrong." more like someone, if Casey is involved.

"I don't know about this guy, Graham."

"Nice guys aren't sent government secrets." maybe. But Graham is in D.C., he doesn't have first hand experience.

"What should I do if he runs?" which he won't.

"Kill him."

And at that precise moment, one Charles Bartowski knocked on my door.

* * *

><p>Date was going surprisingly well. That is, if it was a normal date. He was funny. And seemed decent. It would be a shame if I had to kill him.<p>

I must look into the agent who prepared the file on Bartowski. I doubt his only girlfriend was that Jill from college. He had his... sort of charm.

Then again, I had to make the first move. He was too timid – that was the reason for his situation. Not that I should care about that. He's a mark. And that timidness made him even easier mark, so really, it just helped me anyway.

* * *

><p>Everything went well. Too well, perhaps. That's when he began having a seizure of some sort. "What's happening? Are you okay?" I asked.<p>

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. Completely fine. It's nothing." it wasn't nothing. If it was nothing he wouldn't immediately speed up. And he wouldn't look over his shoulder like he just did.

What startled him like that? Is there someone he knows?

Probably not, since he was looking at a car that just screamed "secret government agency". More importantly, it was filled with Casey and his goons.

At least it won't be boring.

"Chuck, give me your keys." I asked with authority.

"You know, it's a company car so, you know, only employees – nerds – are allowed to..." well, Chuck, sorry, but I wasn't in the CIA to follow rules. I opened the car with a wireless skeleton key.

"Get in the car!" was that too commanding? He could panic. That wouldn't be good. "Just get in the car, Chuck, please."

A good old-fashioned car chase. I haven't been in one for some time, but having a small, agile car should help in urban environment.

"Ehm, is that – do you know... is that really an NSA agent? The guy in the big black car?" dammit. Chuck started panicking.

"How do you know he's NSA?" that should give him something to think about. And it is a good question.

Casey is a good driver. Even with his huge SUV, he managed to stay close to us in heavy traffic. This might require unorthodox tactics.

"Well, I don't know how I know that John Casey, who is one of NSA's top black ops operatives is chasing us right now." he wasn't panicking. That was good, eve if panic was replaced with adrenalin rush with a hint of anger.

I guess that's a normal reaction to this situation.

Finally a way out! It will be bumpy, but Casey won't be able to follow us down these stairs.

"Chuck, listen to me. I'm with the CIA. Those NSA guys **will** kill you. Follow me if you want to live." I said at the end of the stairs. He didn't answer, just nodded.

"Requesting air evac. Track the phone." hopefully the guys from LA substation don't know I'm here technically without support. Now let's find a suitable roof.

* * *

><p>It seems LA substation was aware of my unofficial status. Otherwise I would at least hear a helicopter by now.<p>

So, a roof stand-off?

"Chuck, did Bryce contact you?"

"Bryce? Bryce Larkin the accountant from Connecticut?"

"He wasn't an accountant. He was a spy – a rogue spy." that was the first time I said that. Why does it matter? "He stole a computer database and sent it to someone. Was that someone you?" after all, Chuck could be just a red herring. Dammit, why didn't I consider that possibility before? Of course Bryce was clever enough to set a false trace for us. It would make sense.

"No, I haven't heard from him since Stan... wait, he actually sent me an email."

Or not. Perhaps he has Intersect after all. "What was in the email? Do you have a backup?"

"I don't remember what was in the email. And I don't have a... it was you! You're that ninja who tried to steal my PC!" so, after all, nothing.

But how did he know Casey? Is he really a spy?

I pointed a gun at him. "How do you know John Casey is NSA?"

"As I said, I don't know. It's just... like, there are these images sometimes... and then I know something I shouldn't have. Like, like earlier today, I met a Serbian terrorist at Large Mart. I think he plans to kill some general or something."

Serbian terrorist at Large Mart? Is that supposed to be a joke? "What? Why didn't you do something?"

"Well I thought I'm crazy, you know. Who would believe me anyway? And please could you stop pointing your gun at me?"

"Tell me more about the terrorist." if he says the truth, it could be his way out of this mess. He doesn't deserve to be stuck in an underground black site.

He had the same seizure like the one after which he started running from Casey. "It's uhm... general... Stanfield? Or some name like that."

He's right. Stanfield was one of the biggest supporters of NATO bombing of Yugoslavia. It would make sense that a Serbian terrorist group would want to assassinate him.

But if he was right, it also means he is invaluable as an asset. Maybe he was able to memorize the Intersect. I'm sorry, Chuck Bartowski, but your life will never be the same.

"Stop right there, Walker!" Casey finally caught up with me. His NSA buddies quickly surrounded me and Chuck. "Hand over Bartowski and the Intersect!"

"Casey, you don't understand. He **is **the Intersect."

"I don't care what he is. He's coming with us."

"No, not right now. He has intell about a terrorist attack on general Stanfield."

Casey was silent for a minute. "Alright. But if you try anything, Walker..."

* * *

><p>It was a normal fancy hotel, with an indoors fountain and everything.<p>

"What is the best way to Stanfield?" asked Casey.

"Fastest or the most simple one?" asked Chuck after another seizure. Casey gave him an all-saying look and Chuck started running – the fastest route obviously had to go through the fountain.

Bomb was quite easy to locate, since it was so big. While Casey's goons cleared the room, we opened the food tray in which it was hidden.

"Crap. It's a custom design." Casey was right. Without previous knowledge of the design, it is impossible to quickly disarm a bomb. Especially one connected to a computer.

"Isn't it a bit overkill? I mean, there's enough explosives to..." said Chuck.

"Shut up and get out of here. You're too valuable of an asset." countdown was mercilessly reaching zero.

"Look, it's a Prism Express laptop. We sell these. I know them. Let me do this, please. I think I can do this."

"He's our best shot, Casey." only then did Agent Frankenstein let him to the PC.

"Mr Bomb, meet Mr Internet..."

"You're searching for porn?" reacted Casey to what was Chuck doing.

"Nah..." answered Chuck, entering Irene Demova's website. Suddenly, the monitor was filled with pictures of Demova, until it overloaded and the computer went out in smoke.

"You did it!" I couldn't help myself.

"I did it! I diffused a real bomb!" it was probably the first time Charles Bartowski was in such euphoric state. "What if I was wrong..." this I don't understand. How can someone feel bad after a brush with death?

"Don't puke on the C4." Casey. Not a very subtle man.

So now what?


	5. Doctor 1 - Doctor's Appointment (Chuck)

**Author's note:**

So, this is first chapter of a new part. I was originally going to end the first part with an epilogue written in 3rd person, but since it was supposed to be basically a written version of the beach scene, decided not to write it, because it would be too short and a bit redundant.

I would also like to address one of the criticisms of the last chapter – the one about Sarah pulling her gun out seemingly without reason. She had a very good one, actually. Chuck knew Casey, which meant he could have been, after all, really working with Bryce. She doesn't know he "downloaded" the Intersect database – how could she, when something like that sounds a bit crazy. So that's my reason for her pulling her gun out before Casey got there.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 – Doctor's Appointment (Chuck)<strong>

Life was almost normal, which wasn't quite normal. It's strange (and disturbing) how easy it was to get back into my normal routine after disarming a bomb using internet pornography.

What was maybe even stranger is that it was the best date I had in years, except it wasn't really a date.

This spy stuff is complicated.

I don't like complicated things. They don't usually end up well for me. Buy More – Buy More was easy, predictable, stable. Nothing ever changed, for better or worse. But now I wasn't just a college dropout with dead-end job, now I was a college dropout with dead-end job **and **possibly a database of government secrets in my brain. Which meant I was somehow relevant.

That's why Casey, my newest coworker, whose job record comprises of staggering number of assassinations, and Sarah, new member of Wienerlicious staff and deadliest hot-dog maker in the world were here. To protect me, and prevent me from running from this whole nightmare.

Of course they both want me to trust them, but I've seen what they keep from me – well, at least a small portion – and they're not pretty people. Obviously, Sarah was pretty (has CIA got any not attractive members?), more than that, but she was still a CIA trained killer. And my "girlfriend".

Who is just now calling me.

* * *

><p>"So, what's the international crisis today?" I opened with a joke.<p>

"There's none. A doctor is coming to see you." great! That could be the end of this.

"So... what is he gonna do? Can he, I don't know, get the secret stuff out of my head?"

"We hope that he will be able to do so." first good news since this whole thing began. Well, not first. The first one was probably that I didn't blow up and Serbian pornstar was more powerful than a bomb made by Serbian terrorists.

"Great! When am I meeting him?"

"Tonight. I'm picking you up at six."

"Okay, super."

Soon, my life will be normal. No more adrenalin-pumping car chases, no more weird flashes.

No more lying.

* * *

><p>"We have re-purposed the home video room for doctor's needs."<p>

"Wait, I'm not going to see him?" probably not, since I'm not even allowed to know his name.

"No. You are too valuable for him to know your identity." but then why bring him to the Buy More? Doesn't that give him a clue should he want to find me?

Better leave the spy stuff to spies.

I sat down in front of the screen. The curtains closed and the room went dark.

"I will start projecting images. You will tell me what's on these images." said a new voice in my headset. Hello doctor!

"Um, alright..." the television went on with a picture of a dog. "A dog."

Now hippopotamus. "A hippopotamus." I obediently reported.

"Fat guy..."

"Ugly building."

"Beautiful woman at the beach."

A flower. "Plot to assassinate president Carter was..."

Jack-o-Lantern. "Cardinal One is the top Moscow spy in the White House..."

Big Ben. "Benedictine agents within the Vatican report to..."

I will have a terrible headache.

* * *

><p>I have a terrible headache.<p>

Hopefully, "the doctor" is going to be able to get those things out of my head. I should probably ask Sarah about that. It's almost time for lunch anyway.

"Hi! How did it go last night?"

"A minute Chuck." she said while operating a fryer full of burnt... stuff. "Dammit! I burnt another batch!"

I wonder whose cover job was worse, Casey's or Sarah's. Not that **I **would complain about her job. That outfit was just divine.

"So, what is it?"

"I just stopped by to ask how did it go yesterday. With the doctor I mean."

"Oh, good. He thinks he can extract the data."

"Does that mean I'll have my old life back? No spies, no guns, no bombs?"

"Yes Chuck. That's exactly what it means. If it goes right, You'll never hear from us again."

"Great!" I said, even though, surprisingly, I wasn't really feeling great. Sarah was really... something. And our date went quite well, until we started running from Casey.

But that was all fake. If I was a normal guy, she probably wouldn't even notice me.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day was painfully normal. Only Jeff didn't sleep two hours in the bathroom but three and Lester spent most of the day hiding under Nerd Herd desk (he and Jeff were probably stalking someone – again – and that someone found out).<p>

The my phone rang. Sarah texted me.

"Doctor is dead. Meet me at Wienerlicious. Don't tell Casey."


	6. Doctor 2 - Killer (Sarah)

**Author's note:**

First of all, I would like to know if you find the easter egg hidden in this chapter.

Secondly, does anyone know Klingon (like the language)? I would like to use Klingon for few conversations between Chuck and Bryce further on; it would be just a few sentences.

That's all, this time :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 – Killer (Sarah)<strong>

"It's incredible. He has the entire database in his brain." said Zarnow after the test.

"How is that possible?" good question, Casey.

"I don't know. Intersect was CIA project, I saw only the finished computer." so that's NSA's expert on Intersect? What happened to the CIA scientists then?

"Will you be able to get the information out of him?" I asked.

"If you're asking abut extraction, yes, I think I can do that. I don't know if I can "delete" the data, however." that was bad. If he still had the Intersect, he would be probably locked up underground. "But I really can't say anything with certainty right now. I'll have to analyze the data at my lab."

* * *

><p>Thank God I never had a long-term mission before. These cover jobs were hell. How is it that I could seduce and neutralize the most dangerous arms dealers and I couldn't fry a wiener?<p>

Granted, CIA training focuses on the former, but this was still, in a way, part of spy work, one thing I'm good at.

Someone came into the bistro. I quickly looked over my shoulder. Chuck.

"A minute Chuck." judging by the smell, few more gourmet wieners were sacrificed for national security. "Dammit! I burnt another batch!"

After disposing of black and smoking remnants, I asked: "So, what is it?"

"I just stopped by to ask how did it go yesterday. With the doctor I mean." obviously. Why else would he come. For him, this is a chance to have his life back.

"Oh, good. He thinks he can extract the data." that's not a complete lie, right? And he was NSA's top scientist, surely he can find a way to rid Chuck of Intersect.

"Does that mean I'll have my old life back? No spies, no guns, no bombs?" now I'm going to have to lie. Good thing that was something covered by CIA training.

"Yes Chuck. That's exactly what it means. If it goes right, you'll never hear from us again." always ground the lie in the truth. If he gets locked up, he truly won't hear from us.

"Great!" it was almost sad seeing him so hopeful. I now realize I don't like lying to him.

But that's my job.

* * *

><p>It was a burner phone. As I suspected. I picked up. "Agent Walker?"<p>

"Who is it?" he might be in the vicinity, but there was too much people outside. I grabbed my gun.

"Activation code Cleveland Franko. It's Graham." that checks out.

"Why the secrecy, Graham?"

"NSA. You know how cozy they are with modern technology." of course. Bugs and toys – that's how NSA supplemented true spycraft. "Zarnow is dead. He was NSA, so they're running point on this, but I'd rather have you there."

"Location?"

"I'll send you the coordinates. Watch your back, Sarah." don't worry, I will.

* * *

><p>The place was crawling with NSA cleaners, but there wasn't many investigators. Either they are done, or the NSA has no interest in finding good doctor's killer.<p>

Of course Casey is here. "What are you doing here, Walker?"

"Well I just drove by and decided to help out, you know..." I said with a smile. Of course he knows I'm lying, but he can't turn me down. We are partners now, somehow.

"Just don't touch anything." he answered, clearly showing his irritation.

Oh I don't know Casey, I think there might be something worth touching. Most of the car was torched. "Have you found the teeth?"

"Two so far. They check out. It was Zarnow." well that's not good.

So, what could vaporize a guy but wouldn't melt the car? Something that explodes quickly with short period of extremely high temperature. That meant that pieces of the explosive device might still be in the car.

There! Something on the back seat. Casey's not watching. Good. Now lets grab it, bag it and go.

"Seems like you've got everything covered. Bye, Casey."

* * *

><p>It was an old phone, half melted. It probably was the bomb, who would keep their phone on the back seat – and who would have such an ancient phone anyway.<p>

Identification will be a bit tricky, however. I'm certainly no expert on IEDs.

I dialed up Graham's burner number. Of course he isn't an expert, but he has access to resources. "Agent Walker?"

"I found the explosive device. I'm unable to identify it, so I'll send you an image."

"Alright."

* * *

><p>"Hey, I'm talking to you!"<p>

It's hard to concentrate on stupid customers when one has to keep an eye on an asset.

"Sorry, we... are having some technical difficulties, so if you'd just wait outside for ten minutes..."

"Forget it, let's go to Lou's." said the other guy and so they went. After they closed the door, I switched the door sign from "Open" to "Closed".

Sorry, Herr Wienerlicious. Gourmet hot-dogs will have to wait.

Casey was already at the Buy More when Graham finally sent me intel on the explosive.

"It's NSA incinerator. Protect the asset."

It explains why there were only cleaners at the scene. But what's the agenda here? It couldn't be NSA operation, it was their scientist. Which left one awful possibility: Casey has gone rogue. He was the only one with access to Zarnow **and **the incinerator.

What's his play, that's the question. From what I know about Casey, he would never betray the country. Perhaps he thinks it's good that there's no Intersect computer. Technophobia in an NSA agent? Strange, but stranger thinks have happened.

And learning his motives isn't the priority. The priority is securing Bartowski.

"Doctor's dead. Meet me at Wienerlicious. Don't tell Casey."

* * *

><p>Chuck slipped into Wienerlicious, and I locked right behind him.<p>

"What is happening?! I thought it's gonna be over!" understandable rage.

"Doctor was killed by a bomb few hours after the test."

"Oh, that's just great. Brilliant, even. So why call me here with this secrecy?"well, he's entitled to it. Everyone would be more than a little frustrated in this situation.

"Can you tell me what this is?" I held the bag with the incinerator so he could see it. He should "flash" (that's how Zarnow named these episodes) on it.

And, of course, his face went blank and his eyes did that weird tick. "NSA incinerator. Wait... Casey's NSA..."

"Exactly. I don't know what he's trying, but he had access to the bomb **and **he knew Zarnow was in town, so it must have been him. And you could be his next target." oh no. He will panic again, won't he?

"So what exactly am I supposed to do? Just go back to Buy More and act like there isn't an assassin/coworker who might plan to kill me?" that was better than expected.

"Exactly. I must call Langley for support, but I promise you, I'll be watching you. You're safe." at least he should be.

"Okay, fine. But what after I go home? I mean, he lives right next door."

"Well, I could drop by for dinner and stay over night. It fits the cover anyway. Just don't freak out and it's gonna be fine." textbook reaffirmation of an asset. Good job, Walker.

"Don't freak out. Don't freak out? I'm this" he held his fingers really close to each other, "close to losing it ever since we met and I'm not supposed to freak out when there's a guy capable of shooting a mark from half a mile away trying to kill me?" interesting. I didn't know Casey was one of the few people who could do such shots.

"Look, it's for few hours. You can do this." not that tomorrow his position will be radically different.

"Fine. I'll try. But now I should really return to Buy More, you know..."

"You'll be fine, Chuck." that wasn't the best thing to say, but still better than 'good luck'.

And he should be fine. I won't let anything happen to him.


	7. Doctor 3 - Traitor (Casey)

**Chapter 7 – Traitor (Casey)**

It's too bad I already killed Larkin, because if I had a chance, I'd kill him again. What was he thinking, sending that database to a guy working in a freakin Buy More. Basra seemed like a cakewalk in comparison to this cover.

"So, John, do you have Ramones? Hey, **d****ude**? Do you have them?" stupid Grimes. This 'training exercise' was worse than waterboarding. If he hadn't been such a moron, I would recommend him as a torture expert for the agency, but, unfortunately, this torture was unintentional.

"Look, you can't just ignore the customer. You're a salesman, you know." yeah I know. Do you?

"Aren't **you** a salesman? And don't you ignore most customers?"

"No, no, not at all. Well, maybe some of them." I looked at him intensely. "Okay, so I'm slacking sometimes. But!" he started talking with a voice that was probably meant to be mystical, "that's because I mastered the ancient art of work avoidance."

Good for you, Grimes. I guess.

"Until you learn that age-old science, you will have to work." phone buzzing. Beckman. "So, let's try it again..." I just pushed him away. It was amusing and satisfying.

I went to the home cinema room before accepting the call. "General?"

"We have just learned that doctor Zarnow is dead. His car exploded. I'm sending you to the location of the remnants."

"Understood. I'll find the bomber."

"Don't forget your primary mission is Bartowski, major." Bartowski was just talking with Grimes at the Nerd Herd desk. Probably discussing sandwiches again.

"Understood, general."

* * *

><p>"Major Casey! We are to help you examine the scene..." some lab-rat in ridiculous rubber suit.<p>

"No need. Send for the cleaners." only bodily remnants were the teeth, but the car was structurally mostly intact. That was some sort of flash incinerator. Hot enough to vaporize most of the body, yet short enough to preserve steel chassis of the car.

"But... we don't know what happened yet..." what a numbnut. These technicians... no field expertize, no proper practical experience. They would probably do their fancy residue analysis for a week before they'd tell me what I already know.

"I know what happened. Unlike you, I've seen something like this before." not only seen, sometimes even prepared. "Send for the cleaners." I added menacingly. It's fun to toy with these guys.

Cleaners arrived in about five minutes. Now they – they are useful. Efficient and silent.

Just like me.

Of course, the CIA skirt must've joined the party too. "What are you doing here, Walker?"

"Well I just drove by and decided to help out, you know..." yeah, sure. And I'm a commie.

"Just don't touch anything." or do touch something. That would be the last piece of evidence I need.

"Have you found the teeth?" teeth? Why would she need to know that?

"Two so far. They check out. It was Zarnow." no reason keeping that from her.

She finally started snooping around. Sometimes that CIA arrogance is useful, especially when they don't want you to watch them. She found something.

And took it.

"Seems like you've got everything covered. Bye, Casey."

Maybe I should just take care of her now. But she might be working with someone, and my priority is Bartowski.

Next time, honey.

* * *

><p>Too late. Bartowski was nowhere, which, unfortunately, can't be said about his annoying little friend.<p>

Fortunately, he was more interested in whatever he was day dreaming about than in training a rookie.

"Hey! Where's Bartowski." at least he can be useful this time.

Or not. He was actually sleeping. Not that I blame him, if this would be my real job, my work morale wouldn't be that high either.

And I won't need him anyway, seeing as Chuck just entered the store.

"Hey! Did you talk to Walker?" of course he did. But he doesn't need to know that I know.

"Uh, no, I was just... at the Large Mart, you know." sweaty hands, dilated pupils. Not a good liar.

"Oh yeah? And what did you buy?"

"I... I was just, you know, eh, browsing." really bad liar.

"Hm." I grunted. It's a universal conversation-ender. Works wonders even before a conversations begins.

Now I was about to have one with the skirt.

* * *

><p>"What did you tell him, Walker?"<p>

"That you're a cold-blooded killer. Was I lying?" I reached for my gun.

"No. Since I figure we are the only two people who knew doctor was coming and I didn't kill him, you're under arrest." boy this will be fun.

As I puled my gun, she threw a stupid wooden stick at me, right to the hand. Gun was not an option.

Before I could move, shew threw two more, but I protected myself with a food tray.

Now it's gonna be a good old fashioned fist fight.

She was stronger than anticipated, and agile. She managed to dodge most of my punches and landed few herself, until she managed to get to the broom.

Oh crap.

I quickly took a chair and used it as a shield, when I saw my gun on the floor. Now just get to it...

Done. Unfortunately she saw through my plan and escaped.

Fantastic.

* * *

><p>Back to my priority. Charles Bartowski. It's a shame she got to him first. She probably told him it was me. She definitely told him so, otherwise he wouldn't be so scared of me.<p>

And he will trust her because, well, she's a skirt.

I need to get him out of the Buy More, get him to a place where I can keep him for a while. Now how would I...

Of course. He's a nerd. I'll just put in a call for an off-site. Euclid sounds good. Close yet a bit out of the way.

* * *

><p>It probably wasn't necessary to bust the nerd herder, but it got his attention, and he called.<p>

"Casey, what are you doing? I'm working here!" he was braver over the phone. Fool.

"No you're not. Who do you think called in the install, heh?"

"You know Linux?" that's what's on his mind? Christ sake!

And now he tries to escape me in his tiny "car". It's a pain the agency will have to buy a new car for the Buy More.

Finally we can talk like men. Or a man and a scared little boy who thinks that he's safe just because there's a car between him and me.

"So this is it? You're gonna kill me?" adorable.

"No, you idiot, I'm here saving your life."

"What? But Sarah told me... she showed me..." so it was our incinerator. Nothing the CIA couldn't get their hands on.

"Let me guess, NSA incinerator? You can easily buy that on the black market." for a CIA agent, that is.

He was still unsure. Fine. "Do the math, Bartowski. Sara is CIA. Her partner was Bryce Larkin, rogue agent. Maybe she's rogue too. She couldn't get to you, because I was here, and now she killed the one person who could get the Intersect out of your head."

I convinced him. And they said I'm not able to handle an asset.

His phone started ringing. Walker, no doubt. He just froze.

"Turn your phone off. She could trace it." doubtful, since CIA doesn't have that kind of capacity for cell phone tracking, but if she got her hands on an incinerator...

"Oh my God."

"What is it, Bartowski?"

"I invited Sarah for dinner." well done, genius.

"Good. I'll deal with her then. Get in the car."

Another ringing.

"Didn't you turn off your phone?"

"Yeah I did, it's not mine."

"Incinerator. Get out, Chuck!" nice move, Walker.

The ball of fire was spectacular. Even more so because it was meant for me.

"What... why..." Bartowski stammered.

"She's cleaning the operation."

"Cleaning?" civilian assets...

"Eliminating everyone she's come to contact with."


	8. Doctor 4 - Dinner That Never Was (Chuck)

**Author's note:**

Sorry for the delay. I really wanted this chapter to be good, so I spent significantly more time on it, polishing and revising and rewriting.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8 – Dinner That Never Was (Chuck)<strong>

Driving was hard with my heart beating frenetically and hands sweating profusely, not to mention the stomach, which more than once expressed it's wish to work in reverse today. Driving was hard when the only thought in my head was "I'm going to die today".

But I had to drive, otherwise Morgan would do it, for the second time this week. If I'm really going to die, it won't be because of his GTA-inspired car handling.

No – instead I will be shot. Or blown up. Or stabbed to death, drowned, burned or buried alive, poisoned, decapitated...

Whatever it might be, at least it will be colorful. With the exception of being buried alive. That's just a bad cliché, and a gangster one. Not spy one.

I have to make it through this dinner. After that – well, it's not like I didn't see it coming, right? And the least they can do for me is to make sure Ellie won't know anything about this crazy ordeal. It's better if I just disappear. Not great, hell, we've been there for each other ever since mum left, and lying to her about Sarah, about my life as a bomb-diffusing supercomputer was the hardest thing I've ever done, but...

She can't be dragged in my mess.

* * *

><p>So radiant, so joyful and excited. My sister, obsessively checking the food, trying to make this a perfect evening as hard as she could.<p>

I had to clean my eyes again. Maybe I should just go to my room, even if that meant losing perhaps the last good moment in my life.

No. I can't let this go. I will survive this, I will get my life back, I won't disappear just because of that thing in my head.

It was time to be tough and strong.

"Oh, I invited Casey from work." that's right. He'll be here too. He'll deal with Sarah. He's not NSA's top problem solver just for his very, very intimidating look.

"The one that lives right next door?" she poured herself a glass of wine.

"Mhm." I nodded.

"You know, I still can't believe it. It's been so long since..."

"I had a life?" she didn't want to say it.

"Well... you know I love you, but..." she struggled.

"I know, sis." she was so proud. For the first time in five years, I wasn't a loser working a dead-end job, I wasn't on my way to becoming the next Jeff.

How great this all must seem like from her perspective, without any knowledge of the price I paid for this change, the biggest being the fact it wasn't _real_, it was all fake and I had to lie to her about all of it.

"Don't be nervous, Chuck. You have no reason to be." she probably noticed me drifting off.

"Yeah." I replied, unable to say much else. Anything I'd say after that would either be more lies and half-truths or the real truth, the real and dangerous truth.

"I'll just go get ready, okay?" my throat was dried out like never before.

"Good idea. Try that blue shirt." that's Ellie. She knows my wardrobe better than I do.

* * *

><p>The buttons were fierce enemy, but they stood no chance. Ellie was right – the blue shirt was probably the best one.<p>

Just lying like that on the bed gave me the strangest kind of calm. It felt like this great weight was suddenly lifted from my head, liberating my thoughts from constantly reminding me of the danger that I was in.

Nothing what made sense to me a minute ago was now logical. Why would Sarah decide to kill me right now?

She didn't, she tried to kill Casey.

Why did she kill the doctor? If he'd take the database off of my brain and she stole it, she'd have much better access to the Intersect.

Perhaps she didn't.

It that was true, it meant Casey was behind this charade. He planted the incinerator in his car, knowing we'd escape, to discredit Sarah.

But why would he kill the doctor? He wasn't just shocked when he learned that the entire joint database of every clandestine US agency was in me, he was horrified. He was the one guy who wanted it out of my head as much as I did.

Could that be just an act? Was he planning all of this?

No. John Casey had many talents, but his plans weren't known for their subtlety and deceit.

If neither of them did it...

"Chuck!" Ellie shouted, "Casey's here!"

* * *

><p>It was amusing, watching that huge (and deadly) man pretend to be a nice neighbor.<p>

"Nice cake, Casey."

"It's a quiche, Chuck." Ellie chastised me. Sure I knew that, but I still had to be the little brother, right?

"I'm really sorry, but I have to talk with Chuck here alone... You know, work stuff." way to go, agent Casey. That was perhaps the weakest pretense he could have used. At least that smile is convincing(-ish).

"Oh!" she was as surprised as I would be. "Oh. Yeah, sure." that look I've seen a million times. It was the 'I don't like or approve your gaming, but I accept it' look.

"Let's go to my room." better to intervene now.

* * *

><p>Right when the door shut, I started: "You know I think..."<p>

"Nobody wants you to think," Casey rudely cut me off, "we did some digging on Walker. In 2004, she had a meeting with four French diplomats. None of them survived. Her alias was Elana Truffaut."

That name triggered a cascade of information racing through my mind.

"She poisoned them..." I heard myself saying.

She poisoned them. But what Casey found was just what the NSA knew. The CIA long suspected them from using diplomatic mail to smuggle weapons to Central African Republic.

Perhaps I was wrong. He knew I would have this 'flash', that's why he said that alias the way he did. Maybe he did plan all this.

"I... I think you're right. We have to do something about her. Well, you know, you have to do something. Not me, heh. I' just a nerd." reduced to a blabbering idiot. Understandable, but still something to be ashamed of.

He just grunted in response and went back to the kitchen, just before the window opened.

"Morgan?" I turned to see him going into my room.

"Yeah?"

"You do know you're invited? That means you can go through the front door." his presence somehow made me feel stronger.

"Well, this is the front door for me." he was now standing in front of me.

"Nice t-shirt." it had a prominent print of paint stains. 'Now for lot 54, a t-shirt made with strong pollock influence', I thought in British accent.

"Thanks. We should go, the dinner is almost ready." he sniffed. The bearded one was not without his talents.

Sarah was drinking wine with my sister. Casey and Awesome were exchanging work-out tips. Air was filled with delicious smell. And I froze.

Remember. Sarah is your new girlfriend. You are taking things slow, but you had two dates already. John Casey is just your coworker, definitely not a killer. You are safe.

Fortunately, Morgan saved me. "So, Ellie, you've already met Sarah, Chuck's girlfriend..." he started just when both of them turner their worried gaze on me.

Now how do I tell Sarah what I need to tell her without, well, telling her? I'm Chuck Bartowski, not a spy.

And maybe it isn't Casey either. He had great opportunity to kill or kidnap me when I was shocked after his car blew up.

"Could I just borrow Sarah for a while?" more convincing than a real spy. One spy. Still, that has to count for something, right?

* * *

><p>Back in my room. "I know what..."<p>

"Why is Casey here?" she was really scary when upset.

"That's a long story. He tricked me, chased me, than he told me it was all you, then our car blew up. It isn't really that important. What is important..."

"I told you to trust me. If you won't trust me, I'm gone. And you **don't** want that." God she's scary.

"Just... just listen to me, okay? It wasn't Casey!" now she raised he eyebrows, "he could have killed me, or kidnap me, but he didn't. And he doesn't really have a motive." she stepped back and looked over the room.

"Impossible. Only he knew about Zar... the doctor." her eyes widened. She realized what I found out.

"It **was** the doctor." we said almost simultaneously.


End file.
